


Correspondence

by WinterdaySmoothie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Correspondence, Love Letters, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterdaySmoothie/pseuds/WinterdaySmoothie
Summary: Arthur continues to recieve letters after a blissful encounter at France with a certain gentleman. He tosses all the correspondences away in hopes of forgetting the man, but he had no idea that Francis was closer than he expected and the French man is anything but a quitter.
Relationships: England/France (Hetalia)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	Correspondence

**Author's Note:**

> Just reposting from my hetalia amino and ff.net!

"Uncle, another letter has arrived for you." 

Peter, the newsboy that was also Arthur's nephew had come by again like every week to bring him a copy of the newspaper and any correspondences that were sent to him. By doing this, his uncle would pay him a shilling. 

"Leave it by my desk, boy."

The Brit replied, walking out of the kitchen holding a cup of tea to his little studio where his living room was too. He lived in a modest house, enough for an unwed and lonesome gentleman. He glanced at the paper and letter left by Peter and recognized the scarlet seal of the envelope, and rolled his eyes, another one of those letters, how many have there been? At least 20 of them in the time of two months. 

"You keep getting those letters with the same seal, yet you never reply to them."

The child questioned, staring at the man curiously as Arthur went to pick the card and threw it to the fireplace, just like he did with the other letters. He never even opened them, just threw them into the fire as it were scrap paper. The observant pageboy had been attentive, seeing that his uncle had little to no interest to read the content of those letters and simply got rid of them every single time. Yet week by week, letters with the same seal would come by, whoever was writing to his uncle was definitely very insistent. 

"Indeed, because they are filled with nothing but rubbish."

He groaned, going back to his desk where he picked up the paper and opened it up to have a brief morning read before starting to work. The English man was a writer, his writings however were mostly unrecognized and never published. Constantly rejected and believe to be utter nonsense. Arthur was fascinated with technology and how rapid it advanced so he wrote all sorts of short stories imagining how the future might be, but all of them were turned down. The Brit was known for being a stubborn fellow, so he kept writing and he hoped that this project he was working on would finally get approval. 

"But how do you know if you never read them?" 

Did this boy not want to get paid? Peter was a talker and he knew that but what was this rebellious attitude towards his uncle? Arthur wouldn't tolerate it, taking the newspaper and smacking the child's head softly, without hurting him.

"Don't question your uncle, I'm your elder!" 

The child nodded, covering his head when he saw the Brit raise the paper. It was a genuine question however, he never opened the letters and just tossed them to the fire. He had considered opening them up and reading it but his uncle would surely find suspicious if the letter didn't arrive weekly, so he didn't. 

"Is it your mother pressuring you into marriage? Although that is not the seal from Madam Kirkland." 

Peter still wanted to know, he was a child after all and curiosity was within his nature. He had heard from his mother that Arthur's mother was very concerned about him still being a bachelor and living in London alone, surviving just by writing, which hasn't been prosperous and he had to make several loans here and there. The boy was very aware of the women's gossip, always overhearing conversations or reading letters he shouldn't, he very much enjoyed the family gossip as much as the ladies.

"What? How do you know- I shouldn't even be having this conversation with you. What do you know anyway? You're merely a newsboy!"

The English man frowned, putting away his newspaper as he sat down on his desk and raised his teacup, sipping the steaming beverage. He was only upset because Peter was right, his mother was in fact already arranging a marriage for him with a wealthy family friend from the Netherlands. He knew of his mother's concerns and understood them. The truth was that he was not uninterested in marriage but his mother worried about his stability, marrying him off would not only solve his economic problems but also bring certain relief to his mum. He knew that there was no way of stopping her so the only way she would leave him alone was by proving her that he was fine by himself and to do that, he needed to publish his book. 

"What about Lady Abelsson? I heard she would be visiting this summer with her brothers." 

This was news for Arthur, he had no idea about that. His mother had definitely invited her and her siblings over, how wonderful, even the newsboy knew about it and not him, he was supposed to be the groom! It was outrageous, he would write a letter to mummy and express his discontent with making decisions without even asking him for his availability and that he was tired of being a puppet that was constantly pushed around. He did not want to marry Lady Abelsson and he did not want to marry any other woman! He was a lone wolf and would remain in that way, an eternal bachelor.

"Get out of here, at once!" 

Peter noticed the change in the tone and hurried out of the place, without even asking for his shilling. Perhaps he overstepped his boundaries this time but by the look on his uncle's face, he didn't even have a clue about the news of Lady Abelsson. Arthur would deny it but the boy knew that he was his uncle's right-hand man, always keeping him updated on the rumors and gossips around the city and the Kirkland family. 

"Marriage, nothing but a loveless transaction. Absolutely ridiculous." 

He said under his breath, opening up a shelf in search of a paper to write to his mother and give her a piece of his mind. He was just looking for his fountain pen, another marvelous invention of the century when he heard a knock on his door, already assuming it was Peter, he shouted:

"Listen to chap, I'm not giving you a single shilling-"

He was speechless when he found Viscount Bonnefoy standing by the door and not his annoying nephew. This was even worse, the devil himself had come all the way from Paris to torment him as if the letters weren't enough to haunt him. 

"Non, I don't need you shilling anyways. It's good to see you, sir Kirkland." 

The French man sneered, taking off his top hat as he entered the house as if it were his own. The Brit still needed a moment to process everything that was going on. Why was Francis here? Why was he standing in the middle of his studio? 

"I was doing just fine before your unwanted visit, monsieur Bonnefoy." 

A chuckle came from Francis, that arrogant laugh that the English man hated. He still wasn't understating why this man was in London, if not to only bother him and ruin his day. The Viscount had no business in his city and should, in fact, leave at once.

"I see you're miserable as always, perfectly wretched." 

The French man had a smirk across his face as he walked around in circles in the small studio owned by the Brit. The place clearly lacked decorations, it was clean at least but so tasteless. Francis would gladly redecorate the room for his friend if the English man would let him, of course.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be in Paris? Doing whatever the hell a Viscount should do?" 

Arthur had met this man not long ago when he went to Paris to visit some family members, and he was introduced to the French man in a ball. Then both of them had a few too many drinks and well, regretful events happened that the Brit was still trying to get past by. Yet in that week that he was in France, he had spent almost every day with the Viscount and without a doubt, he could say that he very much despised Francis for numerous reasons. However, he was also in love with the Viscount, but he tried to deny those feelings at all costs.

"To pay you a visit, my dear friend." 

Francis purred, picking up Arthur's teacup and having a sip from it. Tea was alright but he rather has wine, although he didn't expect the Brit to have any, judging by the size of his house and the way he was dressing. Not that it mattered, of course, the French man had plenty of money and time to spend in transforming his lover into a wealthy aristocrat without really being one.

"Whatever for?" 

The Brit snatched back his teacup and drank what was rest of it. Did the Viscount not have any manners? First, getting inside his house without even asking for permission and then drinking his tea? He really was a stuck up twat. 

"You never responded to any of my letters, I thought that you were perhaps ill, or dead!" 

Francis was already expecting something like this to happen. After all the fun they had in Paris, he knew that Arthur would try to reject his true feelings and try to forget their past, but no. The Viscount wouldn't let his lover go so easily, he was here to take him back to France with him. Where they could be free, live comfortably and the Brit wouldn't have to worry about money and write whatever futuristic fictions he desired. 

"As you can see I'm neither ill nor dead, so order your fine horses and go back to party city where you belong!" 

The English man couldn't do this, he was still very much in love with the viscount but whatever was that they had could not possibly be. It was forbidden, it was wrong, it wasn't natural! That's what he was told at least, but his heart raced every time he saw Francis' eyes and he melted with every touch of the man, but they simply could never be. So he burned the letters without reading them in fear of his heart winning against his head.

"I will, but not without you." 

Francis persisted, grabbing the Brit by the wrists that immediately produced a blush on Arthur's cheek while those emerald eyes looked at him with despair. 

"No, you're out of your mind, now let go of me you git!" 

The French man didn't let go, he did the exact opposite. Holding him tighter and pulling him closer as he leaned towards Arthur's face. He could feel Arthur's accelerated breathing and the blood rushing through his veins as they got even closer. He already knew that whatever the Brit had to say was not going to stop him and actions speak louder than words anyway and every reaction that the English man was having was positive. 

"Francis, don't, please. You know that I won't be able to reject you and this will bring us nothing but sorrow afterward, let's not do this to us."

They were at the point of no return already, and the French man wouldn't take a step back. He pressed his lips against his lover's, brushing against each other softly and gently, sweetly intoxicating and enjoying the taste of those longed lips.

"You better not regret this, frog." 

He fell again, completely succumbed to the viscount's charms once more. Francis simply smiled at him, pulling him into an embrace as the Brit rested his head on the French man's chest. Perhaps this was what destiny had separated for him, an unconventional romance with an unlikely lover. Who would have thought that ignoring correspondences could ever end up in such a joyous encounter?


End file.
